The Revenge Games Duet
“But the tabloids—”
“C’mon, don’t believe what you read.” She chuckles softly but it’s followed by a raspy cough. “You should know that.”
I grit my teeth, barely able to control the rage. “Really? Because I’m reading shit about Logan and Emerson.”
Silence falls over the phone.
“Ash, it’s not my place to comment. Talk to them.” She reassures me she’s okay but is tired and needs to sleep. We hang up, and in a confused state I sit back on the sofa with my dick still hanging out though flaccid from the shock.
“Is this true?” I ask the question to myself even though Poppy is beside me caressing my hair.
“Speak to them, Ashley. Though Emerson’s not pregnant with anyone’s baby. That is complete rubbish.”
“Just fucking tell me.” I close my eyes, rubbing my face with the palms of my sweaty hands. “Is my best friend fucking my sister?”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?”
“Hey!” she hollers, pulling away and folding her arms. “It’s not my business. And it’s not exactly like we’re honest with everyone either. You’re technically still married to Alessandra. Your family has no clue you’ve separated.”
She has a point. A valid one at that.
My marriage to Alessandra had disaster written all over it. She may have been beautiful and smart, but she wasn’t the woman I envisioned spending my life with. In fact, I never envision settling down at all—until Poppy.
“But it’s my best friend and my sister.”
She nods, eyes wide goading some sort of reaction from me.
“My best friend and my sister,” I repeat.
She nods again, remaining quiet.
“I don’t understand... how long? When? The questions pour out as my mind is unable to comprehend such an absurd thing.
They hate each other.
This must be a joke.
“Ashley.” Poppy calms her voice while unfolding her arms and placing her hands flat on her lap. “This is a good thing.”
“No, it’s not,” I say adamantly, pulling my pants up and walking away from the sofa, pacing back and forth. “Logan is a bastard. He treats women like yesterday’s trash. He takes what he wants and that’s it. God, I can’t even... and to top it off Emmy hates him. She’s always hated him. This won’t last, or work. They’ll just screw each other over then I’m left in the middle. Nothing will ever be the same after this.”
“Let them be. You never know, Ashley, this could be the real deal for them.”
“The real deal?” I laugh, ridiculing her. “This will never work. Jesus! I can’t fucking believe this. All the lies.... how did I not fucking see this coming? And Logan bailing on our most important training session and risking our game so he could fly over and fuck my sister! What’s with that?”
“Calm down,” she begs of me. “You’ve gone mad. Can you hear yourself? They’re a good fit, the two of them. Let them sort out their relationship without you being a factor.”
“You don’t get it, it’s always been the three of us. And if they do work out then what? What about me? I’ll be left behind.”
Poppy walks over to where I’m standing, stretching on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“You’ve got me, you silly twat.”
I can’t hide the smile that appears unwillingly. “Your British name-calling is very distracting. So are your tits.”
“Well, they feel neglected because your pecker’s getting all the action.”